


Your Everyday Yandere

by Enterthetadpole, Whatsastory



Category: Septiplier - Fandom
Genre: Boyfriends, Romance, Thriller, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 16:17:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16916172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enterthetadpole/pseuds/Enterthetadpole, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatsastory/pseuds/Whatsastory
Summary: I wanted him. I needed him. I would have done anything it took to be with him.And so I did....





	1. Henka

I was always pretty good at playing the trumpet. It was like that little piece of brass was made for my hands, and when we were together... well, it was music to my ears, for lack of a better phrase.

I started in middle school, and stuck with it all through high school, and still played on my own through college. It stayed with me always, protected in its little case surrounded by padding to keep it in its pristine condition. It helped me through so many dark periods of my life, and I wanted to return the favor by treating it as my most prized possession, which it easily was.

I started to grow tired of playing at home alone by myself. I craved the satisfaction of having a whole band come together and play harmoniously. None of the other instruments were half as precious as mine, of course, but they tried, and I couldn't hold it against them.

It was an easy decision to join a group of like-minded musicians in a group setting, all trying to improve our skills and maybe make a few friends along the way. Being in that group was amazing, and I didn't think that I could love anything more than my time spent there.

That was until I saw  _Jack._ It's like as soon as I saw him in the halls, I lost my mind. Nothing else mattered except those exceptionally blue eyes, the luscious curves of his hips and the easy smile that stayed plastered on his lips. In a word... he was  _perfect._ More perfect than anything I'd ever seen. And I wanted him.

But how to capture his attention without looking too eager? That would be the challenge, and I  _love_ a challenge. The halls of the music school were filled with gorgeous men and women for Jack to choose from. It only took a small amount of digging and chatting with the right people to find out the he was bisexual.

A quick blow job given to an ex helped me learn his kinks and turn offs. He didn't know my name yet. Has no clue that I was perfect for him, but he will soon enough. My Jack and me, together forever. And there better not be anyone who dares to get in my way.

I needed to learn more about him, so that when the time came I could be exactly who and what he wanted. I wanted, no, I  _needed_ to make sure that every little detail played out perfectly when I finally spoke to him.

Firstly, a quick Facebook search showed me mostly what I already knew. He was a drummer, and preferred heavier rock. The way his muscles flexed with each pound of the snare and kick of the bass was just... astounding. I must have watched each of his videos a dozen times that first night. It was like I was hypnotized and I couldn't look away even if I'd wanted to.

I was intrigued by his style, dark form fitting clothing and always with a beanie or backwards ball cap; everything about him just drew me in. He was the absolute definition of  _cool._ He was someone I wanted to be, almost as much as I wanted to be  _with_ him.

There was no way in hell that I could get his attention playing a trumpet, so it had to go. Along with the horn went my khakis and collared shirts being replaced by ripped jeans and rocker shirts. I even styled my hair to maximize the amount of chill and swagger that I would have.

Then came the icing on the cake of my getting on his radar. I learned to play the lead guitar. It took a weeks of practice but I got good enough to at least get into the classes I needed. My mind was always able to absorb skills that I needed to get what I want, and what I wanted was Jack McLoughlin. Every last delicious part of him.

Still though, how would I break the ice? It seemed like every time I got close enough to say, "hello," my stomach would cramp up and I'd become overwhelmingly dizzy. He was just way too perfect, so far out of my league that I'd never be good enough to even make a blip on his radar. I'd have to try harder.

It almost seemed like his blue eyes would glance in my general direction when I got closer. The ghost of a sweet smile as I walked past him talking to other students. I was driving myself crazy with trying to get closer, but I was being noticed. Little by little, he was noticing  _me._

The anticipation was driving me absolutely bat shit crazy. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat. All I could do was play my guitar and think of him. I wanted to peel his skin from his bones and live inside of it like it was a prized fur coat. If I could, I would literally cut my own heart out and hand it to him, just so that he could hold a piece of me as I died. I couldn't think of anything more perfect than that. He was worth it. Just for that brief moment of contact, it would be worth it.

Though whatever I was doing wasn't enough it seemed. Maybe it was just my imagination or my fraying nerves but more and more I didn't see him in his usual places. His normal bench he would eat a snack before his afternoon classes was abandoned. The hall nearest the west staircase that he would chat with some of his band mates was empty.

What the fuck did I do? This had to be my fault, but what the  _fuck_ did I do? I felt like my head would explode with all of the doubts and the missteps. I had planned out everything so perfectly, but he was obviously scared off by something I did or didn't do. After my last class I headed back towards the parking lot. He usually parked his car in area B. It was the last definite place that I could go to at least see him, if nothing else.

If it weren't for my fucking teacher needing a word about my latest test I would have made it out with plenty of time to slide to my favorite spot to see him wall to his little black sports car and zip away. I loved imagining me in the passenger seat doing amazing things to him as he drove. No black car. Barely any cars at all. Fuck my life. Fuck every last part of my broken heart too. Then footsteps behind me, and a sweet voice echoed in an Sexy Irish accent.

"Hi, Mark."


	2. Yume No Yōna

The words rang out like a shot to my gut, making me freeze in my tracks and sweat trickle down my neck. That voice and the voice that plagued my dreams and filled me with lust and rage and fear and love were one in the same.

"Mark?" He asked, and I willed myself to turn around and face him.

It was so, so incredibly hard to force my eyes to land on his blues. How was I supposed to be anything resembling normal when each of my nerves was sending a signal to my brain to either fuck or flee. And since I didn't think he'd take to being fucked right here in the school's parking lot, I had to pull it together to stay still.

"Are you alright?" His words were sincere, but I was finding that my tongue was too heavy to truly form words.

"Hi," I squeaked. "I'm Mark."

_Oh my fucking god. Did I just say that? He already knows your name you fucking -_

"I already know your name," he giggled back, "but thanks for telling it to me again all the same. I've seen you in a couple of practices with your guitar. You're really good."

_Ok, he's not running off from my stupidity. Just talk to him. You've been planning this for months._

"Yeah, thanks. Just really got into it lately, but most of the chords are pretty easy to pick up. Not anywhere near to your level but I'm working at it."

The look in his eyes gave me hope that I at least was working my way back to not complete idiot. His smile was so pure and amazing. I could spend my life just doing and saying things to make him smile.

"You've...seen me play?"

"Yeah, you and your band play at that little dive bar done the street. They have great hot wings."

"I only play guitar when our usual player decides to skip out on us last minute. It's easier to find a full in drummer than fill in guitarist. I mostly play the drums at this point," he replied. "Guitar is awesome but drumming is where my head is."

He turned his head to the parking lot behind me as of trying to see if someone was around, then gave a huge sigh.

"Waiting for a couple of friends to get here. My car's in the shop until next week and I've pretty much been at their fucking mercy with getting anywhere."

"Oh. Okay, well... uh I guess I'll get going then. So you can... see your friends..."

_They're just friends. Just friends. Just friends._

"You don't wanna hang with me for a few?" The look on his face was one of curious indignation, and I mentally kicked myself for ruining yet another opportunity to be with him.

"No. I mean, yeah of course. I thought you'd just wanna he alone. Or something..."

"I always enjoy speaking with other musicians, Mark. You don't have to scamper off. But oh, there they are. So I'll catch you around sometime, alright? Nice talkin' to ya." With a warm smile and a small wave he was climbing into the back of a grey Camry, and then he was gone. Just like that.

The entire walk home, I couldn't get him out of my brain. It was like he was a parasite that dug its claws in, in the most delicious way, and I was willing to let it stay there until it killed me. His face, his voice, his body. Everything was just so perfect. Just as it should be. And he talked to me. He talked to  _me._

Once I got back I barely could contain my excitement. I needed to remember his voice as much as I could while I was in bed. What did it matter that it was still light out? Fantasies didn't have a fucking time schedule.

I pulled off my pants and laid down in my bed under the covers. I was already so hard by now that it barely took any effort before I started to moan. I stroked up and down imagining that it was his lips instead of my fingers. He was beautiful, and all mine to enjoy.

The picture behind my eyes had us walking through a gorgeous field of wild flowers. All different shapes and colors swirled around us as we held hand. He whispered sweet "I love yous" as it begins to rain gently on our faces. It's only then that he realizes that the water was bright red.

"It's raining blood." The words fell from his perfectly pouty lips as if it were the most natural thing in the world. A light sprinkling on a warm spring day, meant to nourish the plants and trees, not fill my twisted desires.

Soon the blood turned to chunks of flesh and bone, and soon full limbs were falling around us, but never hitting us. In my fantasy we were indestructible.

"Really, Mark? That was a leg," he pointed off in the distance, but kept my hand gripped tightly in his own. The way he said my name made my toes curl and my hand move faster.  _Just keep saying it, baby._

"Mark, you're absolutely ridiculous. And I love every minute of it. You're so cute. The blood really brings out your eyes. Hmm, perfect."

The fictitious praise was nearly as good as the real thing, and it brought me so close to the edge that I was beginning to see stars. How could someone be so amazing? If he were actually there in that moment, I just knew that he'd have the same thoughts. He would look past my oddities. He would love me for me. Because that's how true love works. And what we had was absolutely true love.


	3. Torae Rareta

They say that love can move mountains out of your way. If that's true then moving a rival or two out of the way should be as simple as anything. Jack was mine. This was clear to me, but all of the fucking assholes trying to muscle in on my love didn't apparently get the fucking memo.

Usually I would be a little more coy about my advances, but Jack made that impossible. He was sweet, funny, and incredibly good looking. How could I be mad at him that so many of his students had hearts in their eyes? I can't, but I can fucking sure be mad at each and every one of them.

The next day after my fantasy, it was absolutely certain that we were meant to be together. I loved him with every part of my heart and body, and I couldn't wait to make him mine. All mine.

But he apparently had other plans.

Jack wasn't technically my instructor, he worked with the drums and I was taking guitar classes. But the two groups often worked in tandem with one another, creating music together to get the full concert vibe. It was during one of those sessions that my obsession grew; as did my rage.

_Him._

Slender and blonde, with piercing blue eyes and some exotic accent. I'm pretty sure it was Swedish. His name...Felix. His hands way to fucking close to his body every time they were together. It seemed innocent at first. He would as Jack a question about the next music test, or what songs were best for learning how to hit a proper downbeat, but I wasn't being fooled.

Felix wanted him for himself.

The way he would check out Jack's amazing ass as he would walk around the shared classroom. The floating in the hallway at just the right time to catch Jack alone to chat. I hated Felix for what he was planning for my sweet little Jack. It was up to me to stop him, and if a little pint or two of his blood was spilled, that just was the way it had to be...

Jack seemed taken by the flirtation. He must have been faking it. I'm sure of it. He wouldn't have wanted Felix. He was too tall, too lanky, too blonde. Too cocky, too rude, too dumb. Jack was better than him. And that's what drove me over the edge as I watched them together.

It started off small, with Felix asking for help. Jack, being the amazing human being and teacher that he was, was quickly on the case. Standing behind Felix, he worked hand-over-hand to get the movements perfect. Once the goal was accomplished, Jack showered him with praise. Even from my distance, his body language was so proud. I was not.

Felix should...no,  _needs_ to get out of my way. With his stupid perfect hair and stupid perfect smile. All of it needed to go. The only question I have is how to do it. Planning is essential when it comes to this type of thing. Jack of course would need to be far away when everything went down. Jack is too lovely and precious to have to witness what I have to do to keep us together.

Felix is a creature of habit, so he follows the same path every day to his car. He has a white Porsche like it's the most amazing thing on the planet. Little does he know that I have a surprise waiting for him the next time he turns the key in his ignition.

I found a sturdy brick wall that surrounded the dirty dumpster behind the building, and crouched low behind it. I couldn't wait to see my masterpiece unfold. The colors of the fire, the wall of his distressed voice... It was going to be magical.

The approaching footsteps sounded in my ears and soon my heart leapt to match their pace, quick and excited. I peeled out from my hiding place, but from my vantage point, I couldn't see much. But the sound of them walking would do. I hope it was Felix. I wanted to watch him burn. I wanted his stupid perfect hair to be burned from his scalp. His fingers that played such wonderful music to be dissolved into nothingness. I wanted his eyes that so often caught Jack's attention to evaporate from his skull. He needed to be wiped form the ace of the earth. And I was going to be the one to do it.

I could already hear him as he approached and then passed where I was. Speaking loudly on his phone about his plans for the weekend. How adorable that he thought that he would make it that long. Everything was set to see the massive explosion. I would get rid of my rival and the douche bag of a car that he drove. I would literally be killing two birds with one stone.

I shuffled away back towards the school to make sure that I wouldn't be in any line of flaming shrapnel and soon enough there was the most delicious of booms in the air. The screams from bystanders was incredible as they all watched the light show. Bye Felix. Nice knowing you..

I hadn't counted on the noise. Of course I knew it would be loud, but  _that_ loud? The ringing in my ears overtook me, and despite my glory, I doubled over and clasped my hands as tightly as I could. That's why I didn't hear the footsteps. That's why he was so easily able to sneak up on me. 

"Mark," he growled, grabbing my shoulder and spinning me to meet his gaze. "We need to talk. Now."


	4. Chūmoku Gurabā

This is it, I thought, I'm caught. He's probably here to tell me that there are a line of patrol cars waiting to take me away. To lock me in a cell and throw away the key. It's a shame, really, we'd just begun talking and I think he may have actually liked me, even if it were in an instructor/student fashion.

"Mark," his stern voice broke through my clouded thoughts again, "my office,  _now._ "

As much as I wanted to take a peek at those gorgeous blues, I kept my eyes trained to the ground with my head hung lowly. Each step crunched around in my ears, and it was all I could hear over the high pitched ring that had no intention of dissipating anytime soon.

"Take a seat," he spat as he pointed at the chair across from his own.

"I know that was you that blew up his car. You're lucky. Right before I found you I saw Felix walking away. He's very badly injured, and things could have been so much worse. What in the  _fuck_ were you thinking?"

What could I say to that? The love of my life was looking at me like I was a monster. A fucking monster that needed to be caged or killed for the betterment of society. I could feel my heart shattering into pieces at the way his blue eyes were staring at me with almost...was that disappointment?

"It's..there's more to it than it seems," I began. I could hear him as he shuffled in his chair to lean in to listen to every single one of my words.

"More than it seems?" He repeated, with a fine bleeding with disbelief. "Please explain."

Explain? How simple he made it seem. How could I explain how my world revolves around him? The way his lips formed smiles and frowns were all I could think about some days. The way that his hips moved as he walked through the halls. How he smelled like heaven no matter the time of day.

"Felix...he...I couldn't stand the way that he looked at..."

He leaned closer, but it was so hard to read his expression. If I had to choose he looked almost curious as to what I was trying to say. Why did Felix have to fucking talk to him?

"Couldn't stand at the way he looked at  _who_?" He asked, and my blood ran cold. It was almost as if he knew, but that wasn't possible. I'd only ever had brief conversations with him, so it was impossible that he'd have any inkling that anything were going on inside my head.

"Not a  _who_ ," I told him, spiraling to think on my feet. I couldn't let him know. "A  _what._ He... looked at my... guitar... like he wanted it. Like he always wants what isn't his. It's mine. It will be mine forever. I put all of this love, sweat and tears in to it. And I  _won't_ let that stupid little prick take it from me. He's... I mean it's, mine. Fuck Felix."

Jack sat back in his chair with his hands bunched beneath his chin and a deep frown marring the grace of his features.

"Well then, Mark, I suppose I can see where you're coming from," he whispered, the frown transforming into a sly grin. "You have to keep close the things that are precious to you. Tell me, if someone else were to try and take your... guitar, would you again be so bold as to make an attempt on their life? Be honest, now. This is a safe space, with just you and I."

Was he asking what I think he was asking? I mean...did he get what I was saying within my metaphor. The sly smile was still there, along with the twinkling blue eyes almost daring me to be honest and open for a change.

"Yes," I said, feeling my heart beating hard against my rib cage. "I would do anything to protect what I love...no matter the cost."

He nodded his head slowly and then sat back up straight in his chair. He seemed to be thinking deeply about something, but was trying to figure out the right way to say it.

"Are you going to tell anyone about what happened?" I asked.

"I don't see any reason for doing that," he replied with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "You covered your tracks very well, and I don't think putting a very talented student in prison would help anyone, would it Mark?"

"You don't think I'm dangerous?" I asked, and to be honest, I think I wanted him to tell me that I absolutely was dangerous. I wanted to feel strong, in control. A complete contrast to the way he usually made me feel; like a puddle just begging for him to step into.

"Do you think you're dangerous, Mark?"

The way he said my name. The way he threw back each question right back at me, he was playing a game just as much as I was. But for what purpose?

"I think I can be, if the situation calls for it," I told him confidently, crossing my arms across my chest and feeling proud that I was holding my own with him.

"I'll have to remember that, then, won't I?" The way his lips curled, the way his tongue brushed against his teeth as he spoke, were all just too much. He was too perfect, and he was spending  his time with me. If this is what I needed to do to catch his attention, then so be it. It was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

"Tell you what," he started again, "I'll give you my number. Anytime you feel dangerous, text me and I'll talk you down from the ledge if indecision. How's that sound?"


	5. Ōfuku

I stared at his name in my phone, my finger hovering over the  _message_ button for far too long. Should I text him? Should I not? Would I come off as needy and desperate? Would he appreciate the thought?

Ugh, the thoughts swirled around, menacing me and pulling me in half. I would rather have died than not text him, but I knew I had to play it cool. He seemed supportive, maybe even a little protective of me, but if I pushed too far too fast... what's to say he wouldn't have called 911 and had my ass thrown in jail in the blink of an eye?

Finally, the most glorious thought occurred to me; I hadn't given him  _my_ number. I could play. I could pretend to be someone else and get a full read on him. Or, I could be a little more sane and text him just to give him the number... just in case...

What would be the best way to hook him? To let him know that he's already mine even before the full weight of it settles into his bones. My mind is telling me one thing while my heart is screaming another. Maybe I'll do nothing for now but just let my imagination run wild in my head as to what out first date will be like. How he will taste when we first make love, or have our second baby?

The vibration of my phone almost shakes me to my core, and I glance down to find out what the skeet is about. As if he and I already were one, the words were glowing on my screen from him.

Jack: I meant what I said. Have a need to talk, and I'm here for you.

My thumbs hover above the keyboard, but pause at what to reply back. I need to be cool and calm. I don't want to make him back off. I need him so much.

Me: Thanks. C ya around.

I hit send, and hear the satisfying sound of the "send" notification. Perfect. Now I just wait.

I felt pride swell in my chest. I kept it cool. I didn't profess my love. I didn't throw myself at him. I was relaxed. I... and then it dawned on me. He had my number. I was so caught up in plotting my opening line, that I never actually sent one. He texted me first.

Me: I don't recall giving you my number??? How'd you get it?

I hit send, and then immediately hated myself. Had I made it seem like I didn't want him to have it? That wasn't the intention.

Me: I mean. It's fine. I'm just curious lol

I chewed at the stubs of my nails as I waited. One minute turned to two. Two to three. I was growing impatient. Didn't he know that I was worth fucking texting back? Why didn't he give me his attention? Was he giving it to some other fuckwad? Fuck them. He was mine, didn't they know?

Finally,  _finally,_ the little notification bell sounded, and my heart leapt into my chest. Yes! He messaged back!

Jack: student roster.

That was it? Student  _fucking_ roster? Not even an emoji or a "haha"? My nerves were beginning to grate, but I couldn't find it in me to be annoyed with him. I was annoyed at myself for not baiting for a lengthier response.

Okay, so he has my number now and I have his. I have  _his_ number. My knees were already fucking shaking at the thought of having something so dear in the palm of my hand. Granted, I had fucked up our official first texting conversation, but he'd forgive me for that. He had to forgive me. He was wonderful. He was beautiful. He was...everything.

It was announced that Felix was in the hospital the following day, and there were collections here and there across the campus to help him with his medical bills. On the outside I was all sympathy and sadness, but in my soul I burned for not being more efficient. Stupid bomb fucked me over, but at least his pretty face was scarred for life.

"Mark? Are you all right?"

I looked up from my pitiful lunch to Tyler's face. The blue eyes were narrowed as he looked at me. It's not like I cared what he thought. Tyler was more of a friend to make me look more...I don't know. Did I hang around him to make me seem more normal? I was fine. It was the rest of the world that was fucking crazy.

"Yeah, man. Just the stuff with Felix. Crazy... people are crazy..." I trailed off, tearing a piece of crust of my sandwich and eating it mechanically.

"Oh, right? Like, what the fuck has to go through your head to get an idea to blow someone's fucking car up? Sick fuck. Probably lives in his mom's basement and beats it to weird fetish porn because he can't get a girl. I'm guessing this little fiery toy was the only excitement this guy has ever had."

He said it with a laugh, but his words definitely made me feel  _dangerous._ Would Jack have cut me off and never speak with me again if I were to behead Tyler then and there? Probably. So instead I brought my attention back to my sandwich and took a mouthful to keep me from speaking out of turn.

The rest of our lunch was in thankful silence, and I moved away from Tyler as quickly as I could as I headed to my next class. As angry as I was at what he had said, he has made valid points that I couldn't help but hear.

 _Sick fuck_ and  _only excitement this guy ever had_ were swirling around in the back of my skull. I needed to speak to Jack, just to get some more clarity as to what was going on. I didn't want him to think any less of me just because of what happened to Felix. I  _needed_ him to know that what I did was for him..and for us.

The best place to talk to Jack was in his office. It was away from prying eyes of other students. I would bring him a small token of my appreciation for all that he did. Something small and beautiful. Something that showed him how wonderful he was to me and only me.


	6. Kandōshita

I remembered a few months earlier, some asshole of an instructor who's name isn't important, won a very prestigious award;  _instructor of the year._ I remembered seeing it the paper and hearing about it through grapevine gossip, but he didn't deserve it.

Did he make each and every one of his students feel special and talented? Doubt it. Did he make it worth giving up our evenings to attend lessons? Um, no. Did he even have one iota of the amount of raw talent and charisma that my Jack had? Fuck you if you think so. No one deserved that award more than Jack, and walking past and seeing that shiny gold fuck up of a trophy everyday boiled my blood, and I assumed it did the same to it's true recipient.

Snatching it wouldn't be a problem. Even if the old bastard caught me it's not like he could chase me down to get it back. I could easily swipe it and give it to Jack. Surely the gesture would show him how much I cared for him. All it would take was to wait until he'd left the room and boom, it would be placed it the rightful hands.

Luckily Mr. Young, who was at least 75, so his name was ironic as hell, would always make a point of having a large cup of coffee out of his room between first and second lesson. That would leave at least twenty minutes of time where the trophy would be alone in his room.

This was almost too easy, and I grabbed it and placed it in my shoulder bag. Then I just made it to Jack's room in time to place it under his desk with a note.

_To the teacher who truly deserved this award. You have no idea how much you are loved and valued. Thank you for being such a winner._

Satisfaction was surging through me like fireworks. I could almost see his radiant smile on my mind, and it was actually making me physically hard.

"Hey... Mark? What are you doing here?" His voice sounded from behind me and I froze in place. Well,  _shit_.

"Oh, Jack," I played off shyly, "I was just... dropping this off..."

That gorgeous smile lit up the room, and I knew I'd made the right call. He was happy, and it was all thanks to me and my sticky fingers.

"Oh, Jesus. He's gonna be pissed," he laughed as he picked the trophy up and inspected it closely.

When his eyes fell to my note, it felt like electricity prickled along my skin. He was about to get an inkling of my feelings, and it made me want to pass out just the slightest bit.

"Wow. That's... that's like, really nice. Do you really think that?"

I nodded and crossed my legs, hoping my excitement wouldn't be too obvious. It was then that his eyes slid down my torso and rested at the apex of my thighs, and I'd been caught. I wanted to kill my self to hide my shame, but he only grinned and gestured to the chair opposite of his.

"So, now you're stealing, eh? Well, I can't say that I'm proud of you, but at least it's a step down from attempted murder. I thought you were going to text me whenever you felt like doing something reckless?"

His tone wasn't accusatory. It sounded almost... hurt. Like I'd betrayed him in some unforgivable way. The thought shattered me.

"I was going to tell you about it," I blurted out. His blue eyes watched me intently, then I realized in horror as his gaze swept down towards my chest, then stomach and then to the bulge in my pants.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

"So, you...were going to tell me about your uh...problem, were you?"

His smile was hitched onto his face again, and the tone was slightly flirty. Was he hinting at what I thought he was, or was I just losing my fucking mind?

"I'm sorry that..."

My voice trailed off as his eyebrows quirked in my direction. No, I wasn't going to apologize. That fossilized Mr. Young was nothing compared to Jack. I was glad that I took the trophy back to its rightful owner.

"What were you sorry about, Mark?"

"Nothing," I replied boldly. "I'm sorry about nothing that I did today."

He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head, chewing at the inside of his cheek. His eyes bore into mine, but I stayed strong and held his gaze for as long as he wanted to. I could play this game, too. I was a fucking rockstar, why couldn't he see that?

"Well, Mark. I can't say that I'm pleased to hear that. You should really think more clearly. I'd hate for you to throw away your talent... all for me."

I would have done whatever it took to be close with him. I didn't care about that rinky little school. I cared about impressing him. Making him see that I was worthy, that I wanted him.

I uncrossed my legs, nothing but a show of domination, but he refused to look down again. His eyes stayed trained to mine, and once again he had the upper hand. Was there anything that he couldn't do?

"Tell you what, why don't we go to dinner sometime soon? It seems like we've much to discuss."

The words cut through me like a knife, a knife made of pure fucking gold. How was it possible that he could make me feel like shit about myself and then lift me right back up?

"Okay," I agreed, trying to maintain a steady voice as I headed for the door.

"And Mark? I may not be pleased, but I am impressed... with everything you've done today," he whispered slyly as his eyes finally broke their hold and shot down my body. "Very impressed."


	7. Katei

It was clear by the way he was looking at me that he knew that I was excited. Only part of me was embarrassed at the idea. Most of my mind was envisioning him sucking my dry. On his knees looking up at me with those dazzling blue eyes and his pink lips wrapped around me. It was delicious.  _He_ was delicious.

"Something on your mind, Mark?" he asked. "You seem a little...distracted."

Oh, there was a lot on my mind. A lot of heavy, dirty things on my mind. Was it too soon in our conversation for me to throw in over the desk and have my way with him? Could I get away with dropping to my knees and blowing him with every skill I had so that instead of seeing stars he would only see me?

I technically  _was_ his student, yes. But this wasn't Highschool. I wasn't underage. We would only  _really_ be breaking policy, not the law. But even so, the thought of getting caught there in his office with our jeans around our ankles and our chests heaving with exertion thrilled me to no end.

"You could say that," I answered his previous question.

"Something I can help with?"

The way he swirled his pointer finger along the wood of his desk was tantalizing. If only he'd touch my skin the way he touched an inanimate object the world would be in the palm of my hand.

I was throbbing even harder, and the way he was looking at me wasn't helping one fucking bit. His blue eyes were studying me from top to bottom, and lingering in all the places I wanted his hands and fingers to go. I needed him to be mine. I needed him to want me so badly that he would do anything I begged him to do.

"Mark?" he said softly. "You didn't answer my question. Should I...repeat it?"

His mouth curled into a small smile as he slowly stood up and leaned forward onto his desk. I could sense my heart racing so fast that I was certain I was dying. Any moment now my chest would explode with excitement.

"I...ummm," I started, but nothing else escaped my lips. I was trapped inside of my own lust and desires. My mind was hopelessly blank and clutching at any words at all.

"What's the matter, Mark," he cooed as he stood up and began to walk towards me. "Erection got your tongue?"

I blinked at the question, and felt myself shake my head help me get a fucking grip on myself.

"W-what did you say?"

"I asked you if a cat got your tongue?" he replied simply, now looking at me slightly concerned. "You've been just standing there staring at me for the past couple of minutes. Are you alright?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. I think," I murmured, taking a step back as I realized I must have imagined the whole thing. My need for him was becoming too much, fantasy bleeding through to the real world.

"You don't look well. You're really sweaty and you look a little pale..." he stood from his leather seat as he took a few steps closer to me. The coolness of the back of his hand was firm against my forehead before I knew it, and a tingle of electricity kissed my skin where his met mine. Would the electric follow us no matter where we touched? I could only hope so.

"Shit, you're hot. Maybe you should lay down for a moment," he instructed with a stern look and a pointed finger towards the loveseat against the far wall.

"No... I mean, I wouldn't want to put you out. I know you should probably get home..."

"Mark," he snapped. "Down, now."

There wasn't a hint of playfulness in his voice. It was as if he wanted total control of the situation, and anything I said would only irritate him.

The tone wasn't doing anything at all to help the growing bulge in my pants. I liked the way he sounded. The way his Irish accent curled around each of the words when they came out of his lips in such a rough way.

"Okay," I replied, laying down on the loveseat.

He gave a short nod and headed towards the back of the room where there was a small mini fridge and a few hand cloths. Before I knew it I had a cold wash cloth on my forehead with him bent over top of me. His face was so close to mine that I could almost count each freckle in his face. I could see how beautifully blue his eyes were and how his nose was almost too perfect.

"You feeling better," he whispered.

"Okay," was my answer, and his face finally cracked with the hint of a smirk.

"That was a yes or no question, Mark," he sighed, but still he didn't move.

"I'm fine. Yes, better."

"Good. I still want you to stay here for just a few moments. Need to make sure you're alright before I send you out into the wild."

I swallowed thickly, trying to decide if I would listen. A part of me was aching to get the domineering side of him back out to play, and if I found the right combination of buttons to push, maybe I could even get him to yell at me a little.

"I think I'll go. I told you, I'm fine now."

I tensed my muscles, just giving the illusion that I would be getting up, and I was quickly rewarded with his palm on my chest. He pushed me back down, maybe a bit too harshly.

"I said stay."

The pull was too much. His eyes were too intense. The urge washed over me stronger than it ever had before, and before I could stop myself, my lips were on his. Perfectly aligned as if the stars had decided their fate long ago. And to my delight, his moved in sync with mine, an instinct that could have only been determined by god himself. We were one, and it was perfect.


	8. Purēyā

Jack was too wonderful to exist, and yet here he was. His mouth tasted like honey and springtime, and for the moments we kissed were the best of my life. The break between the two of us was so jarring that I felt my heart shatter.

"What the hell?" he yelled, backing away from me like I was some sort of slow acting poison. "Are you...what were you..."

He was struggling for the words but I saw where this was going. He thought that I was crazy. No. It was worse than that. He  _knew_ that I was crazy.

"I... what? I'm sorry, I thought..." my words came out in a jumbled, desperate heap. How could I have ruined something so sacred? I thought for sure that he had made the first move, but then again, I wasn't sure of what was real and what was some forced scenario that my pathetic little mind made up.

"Mark, I have a boyfriend. You can't do that. You can't just take what you want," he scoffed and retreated back to his chair. He sat down in a slump and curled in on himself, running shaking hands through his messy crop of hair.

"I'm sorry," I told him again, but the words were barely formed before they were spoken. I felt rejected, stupid and embarrassed. I had torn everything to the ground before construction had even truly begun.

"Mark," he said softly. He seemed to always find away to say my name, and each time he did, it forced just a little bit more life back into me. "Look, this happens sometimes. People get crushes. Sometimes people even fall in love when it's only a one sided relationship. It's okay that you have these feelings for me. You just can't act on them."

So this was it. How it ended before it really begun. My perfect kiss became a perfect nightmare. I was already shaking and I could feel my knees buckle as I fell to the ground.

_Is_ _this dying? This must be what dying  felt like._

Darkness was pressing around me, and even now there he was. The gorgeous blue eyes and him calling my name again and again. It was nice. Almost like he was scared for me.

"Mark? Hey..."

The cold cloth was pushed away from my forehead and I could see him again. I was laying in the couch again, but my shoes were off. I blinked up at him, and he exhaled loudly.

"Thank god. I thought...I mean...you were out for at least an hour."

"Jesus... and you stayed?" The roots of hope we're slowly growing back to life, wrapping around my heart and giving it a purpose for beating. Maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and maybe it was in the form of a striking sapphire.

"Well, Yeah. I'm not a terrible person." It dampened the mood a fraction, but I appreciated the sentiment all the same.

"No, you're definitely not," I whispered to myself as he turned his attention to cleaning up his desk.

"Say something?" He asked and turned towards me, but I only shrunk down and shook my head. 

"Well, Mark," he said as he straightened the last stack of papers, "shall we get out of here for the night?"

There was the faintest bit of hope that maybe he meant together, but surely I was wrong. But still, I let my self imagine what it would be like to walk out of there hand in hand with the promise of laying in to each other once we got back to our shared apartment.

I sat up way too quick from the couch, and get my head hate me for my speed. It was Jack who came racing back to me to make sure I didn't fall down into a faint again.

"Are you trying to end up in the hospital?" He chuckled. "Just take it easy."

I chuckled back. He was too wonderful to be believed.

"Not trying to end up anywhere but with you," I sighed.

His ears turned slightly pink, while my face went entirely scarlet.

"I meant..umm..."

His giggle melted my heart.

"Mark, it's all right," he smiled. "Just a crush. Nothing wrong with it. My boyfriend just wouldn't understand it is all."

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. The word circled my world and swallowed it whole. A large, unforgiving black mass that sucked the air from my lungs and rendered me momentarily paralyzed in time. It was the worst thing that he could have possibly said to me. It threw me for the worst, sword laden loop that I'd ever experienced.

"Boyfriend. Ah, well, okay. I get it. You have to do what you have to do," I mumbled, fidgeting with my fingers, trying for anything, anything to distract the ache that resonated through each and ever muscle. Every blood vessel heated with the thought of him being touched, kissed, hugged, fucked by someone else. It was an impossibility that his  _boyfriend_ could love him the way that I loved him. It hurt my soul to think that he wasn't being treated the way that he should be.

"Right. But we can still be friends, right?" He asked tentatively, but his voice came with such a conviction that convinced me that of course we would be friends. Of course I wouldn't quit him. I was in too deep.

I took a second or two to imagine what this  _boyfriend_  of his might look like. He was blonde haired and dashing to behold. With a dazzling smile like a superhero, and his eyes were most likely some sort of color that rarely was seen by modern man. Grey maybe?

"Mark? Are you still with me?"

There it was again. My name in his accented lips. They were calling me home and worse yet my heart was twisting at the 'still with me' turn of phrase.

"Yeah, sure. We can still be friends."

The words were like razor blades on my tongue. I hated having to say it. To see that he was being loved and worshipped by anyone but me. This was only temporary though. Just like Felix or any other piece of flirty garbage that stood in my way. I could still feel my lips tingling from our kiss, and my own racing mind or not, Jack  _had_ kissed me back. A least just a little.


	9. Kawatta

I laid in bed, playing, rewinding and replaying the memories of his lips against mine. Agonizing tirelessly over the fact that I felt him pucker up, too. How could I have forgotten the pressure? The heat? The intensity? It would have taken someone killing me for me not to remember. It was something that I'd wanted for so long, and for him to take that away from me was bullshit. And I intended on telling just that.

M (2:24am) I don't appreciate your mind games.

I slammed the phone back on the end table, proud of myself in ways I couldn't have imagined previously. I wouldn't let him take advantage of me. I was worth something, dammit! I wasn't a little boy that could be manipulated, molded into some sick little toy for him to play with. No, I was ready for the next day when he would see the text, my succinct words would be enough for him to change his ways forever. What I was not expecting, was for him to text back right away.

J: (2:25am) I'm sorry that you feel that way. You were a good kisser, btw.

I stared at the message, then closed my text message app, took a quick breath, and opened it up again. I must have been mistaken. I must have misread what he said, but it was there as plain as the first time I had read it.

J: (2:27am) I'm sorry that you feel that way. You were a good kisser, btw.

What the hell was wrong with him? Or...maybe the better question was what the hell was wrong with me? He couldn't be playing mind games with me. No, not at all. This all was special. This all was..a test.

Yes. This was a test to see how I would react to his return of affection. Of course. That had to be it. Jack would never hurt me. He would never use me. This was all a way of showing me that he wanted to be with me but...yes...of course.

His boyfriend was in the way. He wanted to be with me but his boyfriend was the one keeping us apart. I had seen the sorrow in his gorgeous blue eyes when he told me he was spoken for. The kiss between us was a call for help just as much as a proclamation of our love.

M: (2:29am) I didn't mean what I said. I'm just really wanting to figure out what you want. What I want too.

I bit at the nail on my thumb, hoping that we would have some type of resolution. I couldn't stand to be away from him, especially after everything we'd been through. We'd only just kissed but already our love story was unfolding in to something that was Oscar worthy. We would have books written about us. Movies with the biggest A-listers that they could find. It would be all for us.

J: (2:33am) I know that these feelings can be confusing. No one truly knows how they feel all of the time.

Okay... that was less than helpful, but the fact that he was so willing to stay up so late and talk with me sent the butterflies to flight. I meant something to him. He was willing to sacrifice his sleep all for me!

M: (2:35am) Well, how do you feel? About me?

I'd never been closer to vomiting than I was in that moment. Rejection or acceptance a quick text away, and it was all I could do not to pick up the phone and demand an answer right there on the spot.

I waited for years it seemed. I saw the telltale signs that he was responding, but then nothing. Again that he was typing something, and then again nothing. This was torture and I was staring into the mouth of an amazing dream or a horrifying nightmare.

J: (2:39am) I think that I want to learn more about you, but I'm concerned that you won't think that I'm worth the extra effort.

What? It was hard to fathom anything so insane as that. Jack not worth it? Didn't he understand how perfect he was? How dazzling and fantastic he made everything around him?

M: (2:40am) You are so worth it. You have no idea how wonderful you are. I would do anything to show you that.

J: (2:41am) Maybe you can help me. Would you be willing to do that? To help me, Mark?

Would I be willing?  _Would I be willing?_ That poor, poor sweet man, I thought. How broken must he be to think that I could say anything other than yes. The prospect broke my heart. His boyfriend surely was the worlds biggest piece of shit if he didn't see what he had. If he didn't make sure everyday that Jack was loved and worshipped.

M: (2:42am) Of course, Jack! Obviously. Just tell me how I can help! Please, I want to help you in any way.

J: (2:43am) Just give me time, okay? Be patient with me. I'm just so hard to love. I've been told many times. I'm complicated.

There could be nothing so complicated about him to turn me away from him. There was nothing in this world so outlandish as to make me believe that he was unlovable. Loving him was like breathing. It couldn't have been easier if I tried.

M: (2:45am) I'll give you all of the time in the world, Jack. You name it and it's yours. You're perfect. You're worth the wait.

J: (2:47am) Thank you, Mark. It means so much to me to have someone care so much. I've never had that before. But for now, you should get some sleep! Don't stay up for me. See you tomorrow. Xoxo

I wouldn't get much sleep, but I would hope and pray that he would. He deserved a little peace.


End file.
